Dear Reader:

From the Bible to ancient cultures around the world proverbs bring palatable morsels of wisdom.. Or as the dictionary defines:

Definition of proverb – a short, well-known saying, stating a general truth or piece of advice. 

More importantly than knowing several proverbs to pull out on the right occasion is the actual act of living the proverb. Grandmother Wilson didn’t just recite proverbs about decency and good sense, she lived by them. There is a big difference.

One of my favorite proverbs is the one I selected for the title photo: “Judge not your beauty by the number of people who look at you, but by the number of people who smile at you.” African Proverb

How many times have you entered a room…not wanting particularly anyone to notice you (negatively or positively) but simply to embrace your presence with smiles of friendship and acceptance? Isn’t that the true definition of beauty? The beauty of friendship…relationships?

Earlier in the summer I picked up a copy of Magnolia Magazine before going to an appointment that I knew would require some intervals of waiting time. At that point Jo Anne Gaines was still expecting…of course, now, a beautiful bouncy boy completes the Gaines family with five children in tow.

I almost threw the out-dated magazine away over the weekend…but I am in between books and needed something to keep my reading appetite satisfied.

When I flipped to the last page there was a “Magnolia Manifesto” that the editors, writers, reporters, photographers, etc. have agreed upon as a belief statement for the magazine. I loved all 10 belief statements..but two stood out, for me, because of a twist on words. (Remember I am the “Word Nerd”…can’t help myself.)

Magnolia Manifesto

We believe…

-that newer isn’t always better and that there is something inherently good in hard work. 

–that friends who feel like family are the best kind of friends and that nothing matters more than family.

–that today is a gift and that every day miracles are scattered about if only we have eyes to see them.

-in seeking the balance between hustle and rest and striving… to be passionate about all.

*-that failure needn’t be a negative thing; rather, we learn from our mistakes and fail smarter the next time.

(Fail smarter…aren’t we supposed to learn from our mistakes as we go through life…they are there to teach us and steer us in the right direction if we accept our mistakes with thankfulness for the knowledge?)

–in doing work that we love and, in choosing that, nudging others toward doing what they love too.

-in courage, in cartwheeling past our comfort zones and trying something a little bit scary every day.

–in subtle beauty, the kind that doesn’t deteriorate with age or wear.

–and of all heroic pursuits large or small, we believe there may be none greater than a life well loved.

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A “life well loved”….not just the more familiar “A life well  lived,” but loved. I can’t think of a better inscription on a tombstone….“A Life Well Loved”

So until tomorrow….

“Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.” (Mother Teresa)

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

The courage and true spirit of humanity is never greater than in the worse, deplorable conditions.

I just finished reading several articles on ‘The Blitz’ period of World War II. Germany decided to bring England ‘to her knees” by conducting a continuous bombardment of its capital, London. From September 7, 1940 to May 11, 1941 London was bombed day and night. During the worse stretch bombs rained down for 56 out of 57 days.

Hitler’s reasoning: If Germany could drive 8 million Londoners ‘mad’ with the constant bombing, England would surrender.

Many British children were sent to the countryside to live with relatives or even strangers during this trying and terrifying period of history. But neither London nor England surrendered.

These were the times,”Winston Churchill wrote in his war memoirs,  “when the English, and particularly the Londoners, who had the place of honor, were seen at their best. Grim and dirty, dogged and serviceable, with the confidence of an unconquered people in their bones, they adapted themselves to this strange new life of the Blitz, with all its terrors, with all its jolts and jars.” 

After a few months life did adapt as seen by these two post-war pictures of life in London during the Blitz.

I loved one true story (I read)  from survivors of this period and that was…stores, opening after each bombing daily (if not hit) began putting up these signs on their places of business:

MORE OPEN THAN USUAL

Don’t you just love this kind of John Wayne “True Grit” attitude towards life?

It started me thinking that this would be a great daily mantra to start each day with….“I will be more open than usual…”

When we stay open to the possibilities that await us around all the curves and bends in life…don’t we live life more fully than we we shy away from the curves and try to only follow the straight and narrow.

Life isn’t straight and it certainly isn’t narrow. Life is to be lived at full speed ahead, the throttle wide open…taking in all the curves, detours, and back roads of new possibilities.

So until tomorrow…The day we stop limiting our possibilities, worrying about tomorrow…will be the first day of a new life. In order for this to happen…we must open our hearts to change.

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

We aren’t having a “blitz” thank goodness… except in the simile of rain pouring down, not bombs. Over and over again the skies open up with torrential downpours. (Right after I took this picture the bottom fell out again.) The poor little birds are having a tough time finding food during these flooding days…everything you put out gets drenched and soggy.

This is the first time, I can ever remember, thinking that I  need some knee high rubber (rain) boots. The garden has deep, deep puddles, as well as, the front, back, and side yards…so much so that it is hard to even walk outside without ruining one’s shoes…drenched in water.

The grass can’t get cut for the continuous rains…it is going to take a few days to dry all this out…and to date it just doesn’t look too promising to get that many days back to back…with the exception of today, Sunday. For the first time the predictions are only for a 20% chance…lowest in a long time.

Hopefully I will be able to show you a sun shine picture from today… tomorrow…everyone is ready for it! 🙂

*But wait! The sun came out yesterday (Saturday) for about 15 minutes in my neighborhood around lunch time and I did get these two fabulous pictures. Mr. Lincoln is loving the rain, as well as, my morning glories.

Dear Reader:

If all “families are composites of stories” this mother duck has layers upon layers of stories ready to be stored up from her 76 ducklings. *(I thought 76 was only for trombones in The Music Man.)

(Excerpt from news article: “Mama Duck with 76 Ducklings on Minnesota Lake Captured in Stunning Photo.”

…”A female duck at a Minnesota lake may have just won the “mom of the year” award.

Amateur photographer Brent Cizek snapped stunning images showing a female duck leading 76 ducklings on Lake Bemidji, about 150 miles northwest of Duluth.

Big groups of ducklings following one female duck isn’t uncommon. A duck can have between 20 and 30 ducklings following her. Ducks also often lay their eggs in other ducks’ nests possibly to increase chances of their ducklings surviving, the National Audubon Society reported.

However, a merganser can usually only incubate up to 20 eggs — making Cizek’s discovery an “extraordinary sighting,” Yale ornithologist Richard O. Prum told the New York Times..

Scientists believe the mother duck picked up several ducklings who were separated from their own mothers, becoming kind of like an “experienced babysitter or surrogate mother.” She will likely continuing caring for the ducklings until they are big enough to go off on their own.”

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*And I thought five grandchildren were enough to keep me swimming in circles. Hats off to this amazing mama duck!

The other day I was flipping through a National Geographic on famous tomb findings and I had a small epiphany. Possessions people sought and coveted in their ancient fleeting short lives were all destined to disappear. Haven’t we all heard the expression “You can’t take it with you“…so why then, do we humans, obsess about more….rather than less…of everything…all the time? Why is greed such a innate flaw in mankind’s history throughout the ages?

In a book I just finished (The Lake House-Kate Morton) a gardener at an old English manor, tells one of the family members that he isn’t interested in acquiring wealth or possessions. His parents had been archaeologists and he saw ‘up close and personal’ the futility of holding onto physical treasures… only to see them buried, in time, under dirt, awaiting the curiosity of future generations. (The same precious treasures men and countries fought and continue to fight over… in vain.)

Instead the gardener said wisely:

“…all that matters to me are people and experiences. Relationships and connections-that’s the thing. That flicker of electricity between people, the invisible tie. It is enough for me that I am able to get myself from one place to the next.”

Wow! How invigorating! In a nutshell… that is where I am in my life now. I remain content with my health status if I can simply keep going…from one place to the next and back home again. It is all I desire and need from life at this stage.

I don’t need to be able to run a marathon or even to walk several miles….a walk around a few blocks will suffice. Being able to get from A to B and back to C make enough perimeters of my circle of life to live it to the fullest.

Life is all about relationships…connections. Nothing else lasts. Building strong links to connections is the best use of our fleeting time on this earth.

Now let me end by sharing the latest family anecdote. When Rutledge and I returned last Wednesday morning with scrap left-overs for the chicken and turtles… I gave Rutledge the biggest bag and just carried a few crumbs with me.

While leaning over the bridge feeding the turtles Mrs. Red sneaked up on me and grabbed my pants leg.

At first I thought it was Rutledge asking for more food to throw…but when I looked down…Mrs. Red had me in a grid-lock. I slowly began moving towards the end of the bridge next to the car….and I was dragging Mrs. Red along with me… slowly beginning to panic. She was not letting go willingly.

(I know this was a ridiculous-looking scene to a passer-by….as I was yanking on my pants leg trying to get it out of the duck’s bill with no success. I yelled for Rutledge to bring more scraps and lure Mrs. Red to open her mouth to eat it while I re-claimed my pants leg again. It finally worked and Rutledge and I made a bee-hive for the car with the chicken scurrying after us.) *One more little story in the Boo Boo-grandchildren adventure collection!

So until tomorrow….Our life is but a breath…we shouldn’t waste it.

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

One more “quack” you need to know…

Some of you have already noticed that for the past two days my blog hasn’t shown up on your Facebook page.

This is because Facebook decided (not nice) not to carry WordPress individual blogs anymore…In other words… no longer allowing the publications to transfer from my Facebook Profile sheet to your Facebook Profiles.

Apparently this dilemma has been under negotiations for awhile between Face Book and WordPress but it did not get resolved….so starting in August…this avenue of publication has ceased.

Supposedly there is some way to transfer the post from a profile (Facebook) page to just a Facebook page…but it isn’t simple. Izzy came over and worked for two hours last Tuesday to no avail…and he’s the computer expert. If he can’t fix it…I sure can’t.

So…I don’t want to lose any of you, my wonderful blog family, and there are two other quick, simple options

1.  Become a follower and sign in using your email address….takes just a second to do and then every day the blog will show up on your personal email account.
2. Or just google in Chapel of Hope Stories...and the day’s current blog will appear.
3. In the meantime I will continue looking for a way from my end to change things if I have the opportunity and know-how to do so.

*Eva Cate finished up with her end of the Pop Star camp yesterday and sang a solo accompanied by the class. Her dream came true….sweet little voice. Way to go Eva Cate! She loved the camp and can hardly wait to return! Her passion is still intact!

There is no need to lament the over-abundance of rain the lowcountry has experienced for weeks on end. On the bright side…my grass and the scenery from the Charleston bridges is breath-taking…we have achieved an “Irish” green this summer….so lovely. *(Ironically Anne said the farmers are lamenting in Ireland as they are experiencing drought conditions….started in June and still continues. The world turned upside down.)

Dear Reader:

When I saw this latest painting by Kelly Rae Roberts….I thought this image was the closest art similarity to the way my mind works…that I have ever seen on canvas. I have often wished that I could lock up my self-detrimental over-thinking and just let the universe guide my way. What a relief it would be to just let go and trust in a Power greater than me! And isn’t that what God tries to tell and show us each and every day?

But as hard as I try…sometimes more successfully than others…I find myself still trying to hang onto that last piece of the string left by the far-away kite of change.

* Now I know (what I have already suspected) Kelly Rae and I are soul sisters of a type)…picturing in our memory images solutions to every day problems.

On her latest blog she had big news….she and her husband, John, and their eight-year-old son, True, are moving to the country…to a simpler life. She had resisted it for years while her husband has yearned to live in a small town surrounded by woods and mountains.

But recently Kelly knew the time was right. This was where their family belonged now. They are moving to the middle of Oregon, from Portland, to a small artsy town called Sisters.

It got is name from three volcanic mountains, named the Sisters, that surround the town. The sisters’ names are Faith, Hope, and Charity. All the signs started coming together to make this move go smoothly…or as we would say God’s Winks started appearing.

“And this is me, (Kelly writes) a few days ago at our yard sale. Letting our belongings go. Embracing change. Embracing new beginnings. Trusting that we’ll land right where we’re supposed to be. Trusting the mess during the fall. Being sensitive to all this means for True,  my parents, and us, including the hard parts.”

There is an ease that comes with letting go and allowing, a sweet spot of breathing room to let the universe (or packers, or movers, or realtors…) do their job. 

Allowing the unfolding is about openness, immense amounts of trust, and the magic waiting for us when we’re willing to truly let go, even just a little bit.”

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The nice thing about letting go of “over-thinking” is that we don’t even have to make a physical change or move….just a spiritual one. Letting go isn’t a one time thing; it is an every day thing we must face head-on, with faith leading the path, while we wave good-bye.

So until tomorrow…

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

We finally did it last night. We got my brother down here for his belated birthday. Just in the nick of time….my niece (Ben’s daughter) had oral surgery (some wisdom teeth removal) early this morning so last night, as we humorously recognized, was Bekah’s “Last Supper” for awhile. Ady, my grand-niece was also here..so it ended up being a nice (long over-due) family gathering.

*Thinking of you today Bekah and hope all goes well and you will be up and at’em again in no time!

Dear Reader:

Awhile back I caught a 50th anniversary CBS program on Charles Kuralt and his “On the Road “ stories and videos. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed watching him meet people from places all over this country. I think we need a lot more stories like it today….just to remind and reassure ourselves that America doesn’t exist in big places with “important” people with lots of money but on the back roads where ingenuity is still alive and thriving.

As I read more excerpts from Kuralt’s stories I kept hearing about his popular “Tricycle Principle” and finally found this explanation of it by another correspondent.

“The Kuralt rule, named for the late, great CBS correspondent, is described in this excerpt of “On Reporting.” We’ll let the master himself explain, using his famous “Tricycle Principle”:

“Well, one time the cameraman with whom I’ve worked all these years, Izzy Bleckman, and I were in his room at the Holiday Inn somewhere, I can’t remember where, watching the local evening news as we frequently did before going out to supper. And there was a story on there about a children’s tricycle race. It was a very appealing story about youngsters peddling away, trying to go fast.

And as we watched, Izzy said, “You know, before this story’s over, that guy is going to ride a tricycle. That reporter.” And I said, “No, he wouldn’t! It would just ruin it! It would turn an attractive story into a kind of joke.” And we watched. And sure enough, at the end, the camera was close up, and this guy says, “Joe Dokes, Eyewitness News,” and the camera widened, and he was on a child’s trike, and he turned and peddled awkwardly away.

 Izzy and I just looked at each other. And there was born the tricycle principle, which is very simple for a reporter. (And it is simply, where possible, don’t ride the tricycle.) Keep yourself out of the story. ………………………………………………………………………………………………

It took me a few minutes to process what Kuralt meant…but suddenly I went back to being a nine-year-old who learned this lesson from the flip side of the story…

I remember it was a chilly, breezy early day in March. It was also a Sunday and Sunday afternoons were mother’s “sacred” day…we children knew we were to make ourselves scarce…either play quietly in our rooms or go outside to play….but basically…leave mother alone… for her few precious hours of quiet time. Absolutely no squabbling allowed!

So on this particular Sunday, one of my neighborhood friends and myself, decided to try out our skates. We had all gotten skates for Christmas and were anxious to wear them for the first time. March had just arrived and cold or not…in our minds March meant spring…and skating.

Anybody growing up the fifties remember these skates…the “key” skates.

I never could get my skates adjusted to stay on my feet….either they would start ‘growing‘ on me in length (while in the middle of trying to skate) or widening…either way it meant disaster.

We were supposed to be able to control the length and width with the key (tied on a string around our necks) but I must not have had the strength to tighten it securely…and apparently Joanne, my neighbor and fellow classmate, didn’t either.

We would start down the hill right, at the corner of my street, Huske Street, and for two blocks we would be in a downward decline. We never, ever made it to the bottom without falling or detouring to fall in the grass by the road for a softer landing.

But that day…right before we started our first descent….a man stopped his van with the name Fayetteville Observer on the side and asked if he could take a picture of us skating for the daily newspaper. He thought a picture of little girls skating on an early blustery March afternoon would be a great introduction to an article he was writing on…heralding in the spring season.

Joanne and I were so excited- we were going to be celebrities- our picture taken for the newspaper! (We must have been a sight back then…Joanne with her bottle-neck eyeglasses and me with my buck teeth.)

The reporter ran halfway down the hill with his camera posed to catch us in action. Unfortunately Joanne and I both ran into our usual problem…our skates got bigger and wider and our feet started coming out of them. We both had to try to make it to the edge of the street and crash land in the grass.

I think the reporter originally had planned on just taking a picture of two little girls skating….bringing in the new season. But he must had sensed a new twist to the story looking at his photos of us flying down the hill, flailing our arms trying to keep our balance and then crash-landing.

Suddenly a cameraman climbed out of the newspaper van and he came over, whispered something in the reporter’s ear….and laughingly the reporter asked to borrow my skates. He, then, imitated us by flailing his arms and crash landing too while the camera man took the photos.

Joanne and I laughed a little…but realized, at a certain level, something seemed off…not really so funny. Sure enough the next morning…there was an article in the paper….something about ‘You know Spring has Arrived When...’ little girls and big reporters crash land their first attempts at spring skating. Perhaps this year we should say “Spring Came in With a Scream…and a Crash.”

The picture of our flailing arms and runaway skates didn’t seem very funny at all while viewing it now…and this time it did seem that the “nice” reporter was making fun of our attempts at skating. (This proved true…as Joanne and I got heckled at school for several days following the photo.)

Yes…as an adult now I certainly understand the “Tricycle Principle“…putting oneself in the limelight at the expense of someone else’s feelings.

Don’t we see this scenario played out more and more in this self-absorbed gratification age of constant and immediate attention to ourselves gone viral?

There is a time to tell one’s story…but never at the expense of telling someone else’s story. A good lesson to learn in life.

I was the observer in Rutledge’s spend-the-night adventures…we had a wonderful time and in between rain showers stayed outside planting flowers, creating artwork, adding lights and fairy houses to Rutledge’s tree, making friends with the turtles and “Mrs. Red the hen” at a local pond, playing at the park, and picking out special mementos to remember Rutledge’s first sleep-over. A grand time shared by all.

*It is amazing to watch the difference in climbing skills and athletic prowess returning to the same park year after year…but more amazingly keeping the imagination intact.

When I took Rutledge home…Walsh, Mollie, and Eloise had just returned from lunch ….Eloise was all decked out with her accessories…bow and necklace. Too cute. She was happy to see her big brother! (I promptly came home and crashed! 🙂

So until tomorrow…“Each day of our lives, we make deposits in the memory banks of our children.” Charles Swindoll

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

Some days I feel lifted by an act of kindness observed or words of gratitude I over hear in daily conversations. These types of incidences make my day…I return home with a smile and a great memory of the episode.

Too often, however it seems like there is a muted acceptance, nowadays, of what Grandmother Wilson would have called someone ‘out on the carpet’ for being “coarse, rude, or crude.” I cringe if I have my grandchildren with me to witness an adult acting like a spoiled two-year-old demanding to see a manager or throwing something back at a poor waitress or demeaning a clerk or receptionist.

It is hard to avoid these rants on any kind of public media…from television, to iPads or iPhones, emails, twitter. Facebook….the list could go on and on.

Virtue is a word that we don’t hear much anymore…especially in daily life. Richard Floyd, in his daily devotional titled “ Everyday Virtue” observes:

“For a society to function humanely there needs to be widespread commitment to what I call “everyday virtue.” To “act honorably” towards others is needed now more than ever. One only needs to read the comments section on practically any post in social media to know how viciously mean we can be toward one another.”

“New information technologies make communicating around the globe easier, but with them have come a coarsening of public discourse. It is easier to fling harsh and hurtful words anonymously across an electronic medium than it is face to face.”

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The only time I remember discussing the word “coarse” growing up was in the ‘quite intimidating’ 12th grade English teacher (Miss Ruth)’s class. As we went over the rules in her classroom, the first day of school, I still remember her glaring at each of us and reading aloud…“There will be no coarse language or coarse humor tolerated and/or abided within these four walls…understood?”

I couldn’t have defined “coarse” (besides coarse hair, perhaps) but I figured it out enough to know it meant the same thing that we girls would fling back at inappropriate words from a boy when we called out “Oooh….So Rude…So Crude” while we pretended to sash-shay off with our faces turned away from the perpetrator.

I think what bothers me lately…is that people aren’t “sash-shaying” away when confronted with coarse behavior…from language to gestures. Demeaning words and rudeness are overlooked and even accepted by too many as “just the way it is now.” Really? That’s it?

Maybe my intolerance of coarse behavior is just another number to add to “You know You are Getting Older When….” and there is still too much teacher in me (probably thanks to Miss Ruth) to “abide” coarse words when better vocabulary choices can get across the same message without the unnecessary crudeness.

Or perhaps my memory is going… as the comedienne Steven Wright once quipped : “A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.” 🙂

Believe me I have had my moments too…Perhaps getting “long in the tooth” erases memories of being “uncouth”.…but come on America….we’re better than this.…losing virtue leaves kindness amiss.”

So until tomorrow…”Kindness is the sunshine in which virtue grows” (Ingersoll)

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

*It is the first day of August…the ‘dog days’ of summer…Woof! Woof! We know we’re going to have a hot one…so we might as well add a “Rabbit” to the mix and hop right in until Fall. Don’t forget to say “Rabbit” today. Then “Good, good, good, good vibrations.”

Rutledge is having his first spend-the-night with me. Mollie and Eloise dropped him off yesterday afternoon amid monsoons…but thank goodness the sun came out later and we were able to get out. We did an art project…got a solar light and fairy house for his tree, went by and saw the hippo statue at a local pond and red-headed chicken fell in love with him…following him around everywhere he went.

Dear Reader:

Dear Reader:

Just a small reflection today on how little attention we give to popular expressions when, in reality, there is quite a bit of difference between many of them. In fact, the differences can be life-altering.

This thought originated when I saw a recent television clip/update on the life of Salma Hayek and how this ‘actress turned activist’ is not only “doing well” but she is doing good.”

UNICEF lately presented Salma Hayek with the Danny Kaye Humanitarian Award for her past decade of charity involvements and giving of her time to help women and children in need around the world.

When asked why she decided to give up a pretty plush life as an actress and potential stay-at home wife of French billionaire, Francois-Henri Pinault, to travel to remote areas of the world to help out during tragic earthquakes, famines, flooding, fires, and other natural catastrophes….she looked startled and asked back, “Why not?” “Why not me?  “It takes so little to make big changes in this world.” 

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if people responded to a daily courteous question like “Are you doing well?” to a flip response “Yes, thank you, but more importantly I am doing good.”

Salma is right on target when she says “It takes so little to make big changes in this world“….a smile, time spent with a child or an elderly adult, a card, a call, a sympathetic ear, a joke, a memory shared between friends, a willingness to be “inconvenienced” by putting others first.

“Doing good in the world” doesn’t require us becoming Mother Teresa…it just requires us thanking God for each day and then looking around (as we go through it) finding ways to add a little kindness where none existed.

So until tomorrow….“Watch now how I start the day, in happiness, in kindness.” (Mary Oliver)

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

One lonely neuron in my brain matched “Do Good” to one of Ben Franklin’s famous pseudonyms, in fact his first ….He pretended to be  a middle aged woman by the name of “Silence Dogood.” Since Ben was still a teenage apprentice and his older brother, James, was the printer, he didn’t  want his identity known or he knew his writings would never get printed. (Sibling rivalry was alive and well during colonial times too!)

The 15 letters were published in The New-England Courant fortnightly, and amused readers. Some male readers even wrote in offering to marry Ms. Dogood, upon learning she was widowed.

One piece of advice read: “Whatever you do, good or bad, people will always have something negative to say.”

Eventually James found out that all fifteen of the letters had been written by his younger brother, which angered him because of their popularity.

Benjamin left his apprenticeship (without permission) and escaped to Philadelphia…the place where history, independence, and as Ben tells it (three still warm- from- the- oven) sticky buns awaited him!

Mandy sent me this picture of Eva Cate creating her outfit for tomorrow’s camp called…”Sing like a Pop Star.” Boy, the meaning of the word “camp” sure has changed since I was a little girl. 🙂  *Love the attire Eva Cate..Go ‘knock’em off their feet!‘

Dear Reader:

It never ceases to amaze me how one stray, idle thought can suddenly take us back in time to a person or memory long forgotten.

Freddy Jones. Freddy and his family lived at the very edge of our small neighborhood (where I lived in Fayetteville, North Carolina growing up)…apparently his house just made it into the neighborhood school attendance lines. (This caused him to always lag behind us….continuously scampering as fast as he could to try to catch up.) Freddy really was a rather peculiar little boy. He didn’t say much and when he did it was usually the same thing.

Our familiar group would be walking together to or from school each day and someone would ask another about a test we all had or, perhaps, a try-out for a sports team, or anything else looming large in a childhood’s daily itinerary….

“How do you think you did on the arithmetic test today Freddy?” “Do you think you passed it?” one child might inquire. And Freddy always responded the same way “Hopin’.

Then he would shrug his shoulders and that was the end of the conversation. For Freddy that answer, pretty well, summed everything up in life.

The summer I discovered we were moving back to Laurens, South Carolina (after the eighth grade) I went around to all my neighborhood friends to let them know. There was a lot of hugging, tears, and more hugging. Except when I got to Freddy’s house.

When I told him my family was moving he just stared back at me for a moment and then he stared down at his feet. I, then, told him good-bye and how I hoped he would like high school the next year and maybe we would meet again. He looked up and stared at me a moment…and then said quietly…”Hopin’.

Yesterday I came across a story by a preacher who was having a terrible day…one sad incident of which was slowly losing a friend and congregational member to cancer. He visited his friend at his home (where hospice had just arrived to begin assisting) and decided to select Psalm 42  to read:

Why, my soul, are you downcast?  Why so disturbed within me?  Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” – Psalm 42:5

By the end of that day the preacher (physically, mentally, and emotionally drained) started flipping back to that Psalm and had a small epiphany. He wrote in his journal…

“The psalmist knew tears and thirst and enemies and taunting, but on that day he chose to write a song of trust that we still read thousands of years later.  On that day – a bad day, a frustrating day, a day of disappointment and discouragement – the psalmist declared defiantly, “I will yet praise God,” even before anything changed.  I will do that too.”

And then I had my own epiphany….Freddy Jones understood this concept a long time ago. No matter what the day held for him, good, bad or indifferent, he chose hope. 

So until tomorrow….Isn’t the one anchor that holds true for all the Psalmists is the word HOPE. Hope invites trust and faith to visit and stay awhile. So Freddy Jones…”Here’s “Hopin’ you have had a wonderful life.”

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

As I mentioned yesterday…I cherish the time I have with one grandchild alone because I can finally talk to each one without interruptions. I get to listen to their hopes, dreams, and disappointments.

They tell me things they wouldn’t admit to their parents about feelings of inadequacy (in certain areas of life) or what makes them anxious or feel out of sync…perhaps a “little broken.”

And then we know why God made grandparents. We intuitively realize it is up to us to keep reassuring them that they are perfect just the way they are…with all their strengths and weaknesses. We must drive home the essential thought that no one…absolutely no one is perfect who lives on this earth.

Everyone is better at some things than others…and God made us this way for a reason…so no two of us would ever be just alike. God tells us we are perfect (and precious) in His Eyes just the way we are. His love is unconditional. Nothing we can do will make Him stop loving us. The power of grace.

And nothing they can do will ever make Boo Boo stop loving them.

After talks like these…you can feel the relief draining from their little faces and even their little bodies…everyone needs to be reminded (throughout intervals of life) that we are loved…no matter the mistakes…we are loved.

I discovered a thought-provoking perception on the realization that a “little broken” as seen through the eyes of the well-loved “depressed” Eeyore… can actually be a good thing.

“A Pessimist’s Guide to a Beautiful Life”

Thai Nguyer

  ( Image Credit: (Culther.com)

“I’m a recovering pessimist. A perennial one. I know it’s a striking confession given the nature of my site. But in a paradoxical way, pessimism’s been great fuel for personal growth. Pitiful dwellings on life’s miseries launch me into striving for the best possible world.

Perhaps the greatest of pessimists: Eeyore. The thistle eating donkey from A. A. Milne’s Winnie the Pooh.

There’s something poignantly oxymoronic about Eeyore — that such laughter and joy can come from a gloomy character.

In the same way being poor teaches us to appreciate wealth, having our hearts broken teaches us to love faithfully, struggle and failure magnifies our victories — Eeyore’s melancholy in a subtle way highlights the joys in life.”

(*I read through some of the author’s favorite quotes from Eeyore and chose three to share with you…along with the writer’s commentary.)

 “Thanks for noticing me.”

It’s what we all want. Beyond our physical needs, the existential cry for acknowledgment underlies everything we do.

To be noticed, to be love, to be validated.

One of Eeyore’s favorite lines highlights the power in simply acknowledging someone’s presence. Appreciating the uniqueness of their character, the serendipity that allows friends to share the same space and time. Every relationship is made up of chance occurrences which deserve some marveling.

And when silence is no longer awkward in any relationship — it’s a beautiful experience of “noticing” one another that should be celebrated.

 “A tail isn’t a tail to them, it’s just a little bit extra at the back.”

“Not everyone will understand you, and that’s okay. We celebrate freedom of speech, but often get bent out of shape when someone expresses an opposing view.

Just like you can take a horse to water but not make it drink, there’s no point going blue in the face telling someone it’s a tail if all they see is “extra at the back.””

 “We can’t all, and some of us don’t. That’s all there is to it.”

“Can’t all what?” said Pooh, rubbing his nose.

“Gaiety. Song-and-dance. Here we go round the mulberry bush.”

“It’s like being an introvert in a culture that preaches extroversion. Thankfully there’s more balance nowadays with introversion seen less as an issue to fix and more of a celebration.

But with any majority view or “cultural norm,” there’s a always the temptation to feel as though there’s something wrong with you if you don’t fit into the neat cookie cutter.

Simple, yet profound words from Eeyore: “We can’t all, and some of us don’t.” There’s beauty in being different. Cookie cutters are meant for cookies, not life.”

So until tomorrow…

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

*In response to our child’s version of who we wanted to be when we grew up and our adult life now….Heard back from a couple of you.

Cindy Ashley: Wanted to be a dietitian in the eighth grade…She remembered even writing an essay on  the topic. Instead Cindy became a wonderful teacher and administrator who became an expert at nourishing the mind and body…providing the nutrition needed to pave the path for life-time learners.

Patty Knight: Patty is one of those fortunate people who intuitively knew (even as a child/youth) that she wanted to be a teacher above everything else. And what a teacher she was in the classroom and is now… as a wondrous teacher to her grandchildren.

Happiness is:

A knock at the door and Luke and Chelsey arrived yesterday with the first eggs from their chickens and “Little Red” …a clone of “Big Red.” So beautiful….I just hope “Little Red” will continue to grow with me now as the sole care-giver… and “Big Red” will continue to hang in there…time will tell how it all shakes out.

Dear Reader:

I love Kelly Rae Roberts’ most recent blog. In it she is describing the dual feelings of watching her son, now eight, become more independent while her heart-strings still want him to need her.

Yesterday, I began experiencing the same thing. Eva Cate, is now eight too, and it is the subtle, little things that tell us they are growing up and away a little at a time. (Mandy and John have been sick all week, Mandy with some type of horrible bacterial virus…and John with severe infected sinuses. They, both, had a meeting Friday they felt they needed to attend….so I told them I would come do a girl day with Eva Cate.)

I noticed when we crossed lanes while shopping at Town Center in Mt. Pleasant…Eva Cate no longer grabs my hand, automatically, but confidently looks both ways and crosses with me trailing quickly behind her. Instead of selecting clothing items that I thought were cute…she informed me that she liked this or that color or this was something that was very popular at the moment. She is a true shoe lover and can hardly wait to stride across the room with a little elevated leverage.

Kelly Roberts observed these traits in her 8-year-old son.

I received a question earlier this week about what I do when my mama heart breaks. I loved the question and I don’t think we’re talking enough about it.

True is on the edge of 8 years old , and though my mama heart has cracked many many times, it’s endured a heavy dose of it lately.

He is becoming his own. Watching our children Become is both heart-expanding and heart-breaking all at once. As he reaches for his developmental milestones of independence, I reach for all the permissions and allowances I can give myself to grieve. As he moves slowly away from me, I move closer toward myself. I cry. I process with John. I process with friends. I hold sacred space for him and for myself. I pray. I ask the Angels for guidance. And I celebrate the Great Mystery of Being A Mom.

Remember Who YOU Wanted to Be

Remembrance as in Ancient Remembrance. Remembrance as in what you’re here to do. Remembrance as in aligning your sacred purpose with your everyday choices.

In a world with so much noise, Remembrance of who we are and who we want to become is a radical and crucial act of self-inquiry.

Here’s what I’m remembering lately: I have deep pockets of Divine Optimism. I want to be a good steward of Possibility. I want to nurture my own artist heart as well as others. I want to remember that I am here to listen to Joy, to find it in the dark murky waters. I want to remember that nothing is wasted and every moment of my life is here to serve me.

How about you? How can the holy reminder of Remembrance guide you? How can you recalibrate – even if micro steps – toward who you wanted to be?

…………………………………………………………………………………………………..

It is just as hard for a grandmother to watch her grandchildren grow up as it is for a mother. Childhood is so short and so precious. If we blink it is over.

Thank goodness Eva Cate still loves her Barbie doll houses, working on art projects with lots of glitter and living in an imaginary world. I think she might be a script writer for movies when she grows up….because I can hear her voice changing as she takes on the parts of everyone of her dolls going in and out of the doll house. She is completely lost “in transition.”

These childhood sounds comfort me. It won’t be long until the doll houses disappear but for a few more precious moments in time…she is still the little girl with the big imagination.

*I wanted to be a nurse when I grew up because it sounded so glamorous/romantic, and fall in love with the handsome doctor. (Too many Dr. Kildare and Ben Casey television episodes I suspect.)

The nice thing about being a teacher is that the job offers lots of diverse occupational experiences- putting out fires (firemen), keeping order (police), first-aid nurse, handing down verdicts (judge), psychologist, storyteller, actor, and motivational speaker. (These days being a lawyer wouldn’t hurt either with so many lawsuits in daily life.) So I got to experience it all.

Come on now….’Fess up Readers! What did you want to be when you were a child and did you become that…or something else? The “Boo” wants to hear from you!

Eva Cate loves acting and being in front of a crowd…it will be interesting to see where her passions lead her.

So until tomorrow…

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

Girls Day Out: Claires, lunch, Barnes and Noble, always ending with yogurt and Eva Cate’s  lego box set built in 15 minutes…she is a whiz at lego’s.

When Jakie got home Eva Cate surprised him by baking his favorite: chocolate pretzels…with just a little help from mom! Jakie is now the proud owner of 13 cars from the movie CARS…he knows every car’s name.